


Crossroads

by rainlightlyn



Category: Tangled (2010)
Genre: Afterlife, F/M, Spiritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-12
Updated: 2015-09-12
Packaged: 2018-04-20 08:53:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4781321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainlightlyn/pseuds/rainlightlyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Greetings, Eugene Fitzherbert.” A voice spoke from behind him.</p>
<p>Eugene spun around. A figure stood just visible in the fog, a shepherd’s crook in one hand. He couldn’t tell if the person was male or female. There was a grey cloak covering both figure and face, except for the mouth and chin. The cloak itself almost seemed to be made of the fog, it blended in so well. The voice couldn’t give him a clue. It could have been either a woman’s low alto or a man’s high tenor. Even the hand holding the crook gave no clue as swirls of the mist made it hard to make out clearly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crossroads

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of my take on what is going on with Eugene in those few moments he was dead.

He wasn’t sure where he was. One minute he was sprawled on the floor of Rapunzel’s tower, the next standing somewhere he couldn’t even begin to recognize. It was a nowhere place with thick grey fog or mist in all directions, concealing any type of distinguishing features. And the strange thing was that the fog was not the cold and clam-y type. Not like the stuff that rose off the waters surrounding Corona or hung in the early morning between the trees of the forest. Once or twice Eugene thought he saw something in the mists, but whenever he squinted to try to make out what it might have been the fog seemed to just get thicker.

About the only thing he could easily make out was the ground under his boots. He was standing on what might have been a path of some sort. The ground (if that was what it was) looked like sand or dirt of a silvery grey that was not much different in colour from the fog. When he experimentally dig a toe into the stuff, Eugene found it was neither soft and giving like sand nor hard and compact like hard dirt or rock. Eugene had to wonder if he was supposed to follow the path, but since the fog hindered vision in all directions he wasn’t all that sure he wanted to move.

He knew he was dead. It was the logical conclusion to make considering the last conscious memory he had before this place was of bleeding out in Rapunzel’s arms after cutting off her magical hair to save her from being chained to that mother of hers for the rest of her life. He knew that doing so would seal his fate and he absolutely didn’t regret it for a second. His only real regret was dying on Blondie and leaving her alone in the world to fend for herself. Still, he figured that she could manage. She was smart and could probably charm just about anyone into helping her.

Thinking of Rapunzel, while a more pleasant train of thought by far, didn’t do anything for figuring out what he was supposed to do now. If this was the afterlife, it wasn’t anything like he was expecting. Not that he really expected getting into any sort of heaven, but if this was hell, there was a lot less fire and brimstone than he imagined. He hoped that this wasn’t all there was to being dead. Even though he had once dreamed of living alone on an island, spending the rest of eternity alone had absolutely no appeal. Those few short days with Rapunzel had shown him just how stupid that former dream had been.

“Greetings, Eugene Fitzherbert.” A voice spoke from behind him.

Eugene spun around. A figure stood just visible in the fog, a shepherd’s crook in one hand. He couldn’t tell if the person was male or female. There was a grey cloak covering both figure and face, except for the mouth and chin. The cloak itself almost seemed to be made of the fog, it blended in so well. The voice couldn’t give him a clue. It could have been either a woman’s low alto or a man’s high tenor. Even the hand holding the crook gave no clue as swirls of the mist made it hard to make out clearly.

“Umm… Hello.” He answered nervously. Although part of him was glad that he was not entirely alone in this place, most of him was suspicious of anyone he would meet. Especially someone who just appeared out of nowhere and he couldn’t even see clearly. “You are…who? And for that matter, what are you?”

The corners of the person’s lips curled up in a faint smile. “I go by many names, Eugene Fitzherbert. Some are more correct than others. And what I am is nothing more than a guide.” The free hand came up to pull back the cowl. The same motion threw back the edges of the cloak at the same time. “You may call me Charon.”

Eugene couldn’t help but stare. The person turned out to be a woman. A very beautiful woman. She was as tall as he was, with tanned skin a few shades darker than his own. Her hair was pure silver white and he couldn’t tell how long it was since it disappeared down the back of the cloak. The outfit, if you could call it that, she was wearing was of some sort of thin filmy material that clung and left very little to the imagination about a body luscious enough to captivate any other man. Certainly even Flynn Rider could appreciate that type of female. Eugene Fitzherbert on the other hand couldn’t help but prefer Rapunzel’s petite and slim frame in comparison.

And Charon’s eyes were perhaps the strangest thing about this whole strange situation. They were nothing but brilliant yet shadowed sapphire blue. No whites and no pupils, just blue pools. They almost seemed to glow slightly. Eugene couldn’t help but be a little unnerved by that.

It only took him a few seconds to realize who, or rather what, she was. “You’re Death?” he asked slowly, a part of him not really wanting the answer even though he was already pretty sure of it. Charon gave a slight nod. “Huh. I never figured Death was a lady.”

She gave that faint sylvan smile again. “Not quite. You see, everyone’s death is unique so everyone experiences Death differently. Some see me as male, some as female. Sometimes I am an adult, other times a child, and still others were I am something not even remotely human. What I am right now it how you personally are experiencing my appearance.”

“Oh…” Eugene could think of anything to say to that. He couldn’t say that he was ‘freaking out’ over this information, but he had to wonder how even in death he kept running into women that were, for lack of a better term, weird. Blondie with her magic healing hair that glowed, the paranoid over-protective mother that greeted visitors by stabbing them, and now Death. Maybe he was getting used to strange. “So… uh, what now? Do you guide me towards the light or whatever there is?”

Charon actually chuckled, the fog swirling around the two of them. “Mortals have such a simplistic view of death. Though I have no knowledge of what awaits souls at their final destination, I would venture to guess that what you might be expecting pales in comparison to the reality.”

That rather surprised Eugene. “Really? Because I figure that if anyone would know what the other side is like, it would be Death. So you can’t even give me a hint?” Even though she had just said she didn’t know, he just had to try wheedling for more information. It was just part of his nature.

“I am afraid not. As I have said, I am nothing more than a guide. I shepherd the souls of the dead where they are meant to go. I never see what awaits them beyond the Veil.” She waved her crook vaguely around. “In your case, the path is not yet clear. We stand at a crossroads. There are decisions still being made over your fate.” She seemed to watch him at that moment with much the same intensity that a cat watched a mouse-hole. Those strange solid coloured eyes made it hard to read exactly where she was looking, but they still never wavered from his face.

He wasn’t quite sure what she could mean by that. After all he _had_ led a very selfish life. He had lied, cheated, and stole his way across more than one kingdom. The Stabbingtons were not the first “partners in crime” he had double-crossed. In fact, up until two days ago, he would have never done anything for anyone else if it did not benefit his original goal of owning his own island. And he had to admit that he only ever agreed to take Rapunzel to see the lanterns just so he could get his satchel and the stolen crown back. That all changed, however. All it took was nearly drowning in that cave and a midnight conversation beside that campfire.

As if she could see all that written across his face (which, let’s face it, she might very well be able to), Charon nodded slowly. “Indeed, you did live _very_ selfishly, yet your death was anything but selfish. You willingly gave up your life to save another from a fate worse than death. That has earned you what I believe you Mortals would term as _brownie points_.” Charon raised an eyebrow.

Eugene laughed. He couldn’t help it. “That’s… that’s a good thing, isn’t it?” In the back of his mind he had to wonder if laughing at a joke made by Death topped fending off a sword-wielding horse using a frying pan as the strangest thing he had ever done.

“That would depend on your definition of good.” He was about to ask what she meant by that when she abruptly shifted the conversation away. “What is your dream, Eugene Fitzherbert? You thought you knew it once.”

He took a moment to think about that because he had once thought he knew what his dream was. Truth be told, his dreams had changed more than once in his life. As an orphaned child his dreams had been finding a family that would take him in and care for him. Growing older all he wanted was to go off and have adventures like his hero Flynnagan Rider. Becoming the thief Flynn Rider had jaded him until all he wanted was to steal enough to buy his island to live alone on. And less than two days ago, his dream shifted yet again to Rapunzel and wanting start a new life with her somehow. A part of him tried to insist that that was still his dream, but he knew it was impossible. Then again, could the dead still have dreams?

Well, if they did, he certainly knew what his new dream would be.

“Rapunzel.” He answered finally. “My dream would be that she’d be okay and have a long and happy life.”

Charon turned her head slightly to look off into the mists. “Rest assured. The Princess _will_ live long and well. She will be loved and come to guide her kingdom with all the grace and wisdom of her parents before her.”

At first, Eugene felt relief wash through him. It was so comforting to know that Rapunzel would be all right. Then Charon’s exact wording registered and the meaning of those words hit him like a frying pan. “Princess?!” he exclaimed sharply. “You’re telling me that Blondie, _my Blondie_ , is a Princess?!” he was so shocked by the revelation that his use of the possessive came out without him even realizing it.

“Indeed. _Your_ Rapunzel of the Tower,” Charon’s tone was so calm it was almost bored, yet she put just the tiniest bit of emphasis on the word _your_ , “is the Lost Princess of Corona.”

Eugene rubbed a hand over his mouth, his surprise over this new tidbit of information fading quickly into acceptance. Was it really so impossible that Rapunzel was also the Lost Princess? He thought back to all that he knew about the Princess. He had been eight when she was born and he could remember how all the adults had been so worried about the Queen’s health. And how she had been saved by a…

Magic _golden_ flower. A flower that was said to be able to heal the sick and injured and restore youth. Just like Rapunzel’s hair. The Princess had been missing for _eighteen_ years and Rapunzel had said she had lived in that tower for _eighteen_ years.

Suddenly, as if he was standing in the market square of the city, he could practically see the mosaic of the King and Queen holding the baby Princess. And that the mosaic showed the Princess with blonde hair, just like Rapunzel. And green eyes just like Rapunzel. Just like the Queen had. Memory surfaced of his last view of Rapunzel with her newly shorn hair. Brown hair, also just like the Queen.

The absurdity of it all almost made him laugh again. He had gotten into this whole mess by stealing the Lost Princess’s tiara and _he_ was the one to finally find her. “It should be impossible, but… she is, isn’t she?” When he looked at Death, Charon nodded. “It doesn’t make sense though. I mean the Guards _had_ to have searched the forest when she was taken. How could they have missed finding the tower?”

“Mother Gothel, the woman who took her, was more than just a vain greedy old woman. She had some knowledge of the arcane. She did not wish to lose her flower again so she set up a warding spell on the tunnel to the valley where her tower was hidden.” Charon tilted her head slightly. “So that no man searching for the _Princess_ would ever be able to find her.”

“Of course…” he said slowly in understanding. “When I found the tower, I wasn’t looking for the Princess. I was just looking for a place to hide from Max.”

Charon nodded again. “And when you returned there this morning, you were still not looking for the Princess. Only Rapunzel. Also, one could say that the horse Maximus is certainly _no man_.”

Eugene gave a smirk at that. “I wouldn’t count on that. Max is a lot smarter than most of the people I know. Certainly more than any of the Guards.” He took a deep breath then. “That’s good. I’m glad. If anyone deserves to be a princess it’s her. Does she know?”

“She does.” Charon reassured him. “She realized the truth just before you escaped from prison.”

He wanted to ask how Rapunzel had figured it out, but he supposed it didn’t really matter at this point. Not like he could do anything with that knowledge or go back or anything.

At that moment he noticed that Charon was looking off into the fog again and he got the shivery sense that she was listening to something. Or Someone. It was confirmed a short while later when she bowed her head. “I see. Well, that is unexpected.”

“What?” he asked nervously.

She didn’t reply right away. Instead she took her crook in both hands, lifted it in front of her, and then rapped the butt of it against the ground sharply. A strange bell-like tone sounded at the impact and the fog swirled away from both of them to reveal an empty expanse. There was still nothing like landscape around them, but Eugene could now clearly see the path under his boots. In fact, it turned out that they were literally standing at a crossroads. The only thing missing would have been a sign-post with directions on it. Charon stood right at the point where the path split into two forks.

“You are being given something that not many are given.” Charon told him solemnly, spreading her arms to either side to indicate both paths. “A Choice…”

“ _Heal what has been hurt…_ ” a soft incredibly sad voice sang, interrupting Death.

Eugene blinked and looked around. He almost could have sworn that he could hard Rapunzel singing her healing song. “What’s going on?” He felt a slight tug at one arm and when he looked down his eyes widened. Twined about the same wrist that had been shackled to the banister by Gothel was a thin golden thread. At the back of his mind he had to wonder if it had been there all along and he was only just now noticing it.

“ _Change the Fates’ Design…_ ”

With each word of the song’s next line, the thread grew thicker and began to pulse with light. Eugene lifted his hand to stare between it and Charon, looking for some sort of explanation. The woman he saw as Death had an unreadable expression on her face. She slowly lowered her arms, resting her hands on the crook again.

“It seems that your Dream is not ready to give up on you.” She replied softly. “This changes things.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He forced himself to no panic. Just because _things_ change, doesn’t necessarily mean that the change was going to be bad. He really didn’t want to get his hopes up.

“Relax, Eugene Fitzherbert. You are still getting a Choice. It is just that your options have changed.”

“ _Save what has been Lost…_ ”

“Oh? What are my options now?” Eugene asked.

“You may choose to go forward.” She answered, holding up one hand. A wisp of the fog curled down from above and condensed just above her fingers. The fog-shape solidified into a dagger which hovered in the air. Charon took the tip of the blade between her fingers and offered it to him hilt first. “Or you can choose to go back.”

He stared at her and then at the knife. “Seriously? That’s an easy choice! I…”

“Are you sure of that?” Charon asked, interrupting him. “There are consequences to either one.”

That made him pause.

 “Going forward would mean that you would finally earn your just reward. Going back means you must face your crimes.” Charon still held the dagger out to him.

Eugene could sort of see what she meant. It seemed like from her words that he was going to get his every desire met if he stayed dead and that coming back to life again would mean he would have to face up to Flynn Rider’s sordid past. He could end up right back where he started this morning. In prison and awaiting his appointment with the hangman’s noose. And yet…

“ _Bring back what once was mine…_ ”

And yet, there was the chance to be with Rapunzel again. The chance to hold her in his arms, to kiss her, to tell her just how much he loved her. That would be worth it. And surely Death or Fate or whatever was in charge wouldn’t give him this chance just to rip him away from her again.

In the end there still was no contest over what he would choose.

“You know, it doesn’t matter. I still choose Rapunzel. You said she hasn’t given up on me, so I can’t disappoint her by giving up on her.” He held the hand bound by the now thick glowing rope against his chest and cradled it with his free hand. “I want… no. I need to go back.”

Charon gave him a wide full smile, revealing very white teeth. “I have never been so glad to lose, Eugene Fitzherbert.” Before he could react, she stepped forward and kissed him full on the mouth, pressing against him. In that moment he couldn't move or think and he was extremely away of every point of contact between their bodies. Her arms around his neck, her breasts against his chest, her thighs pressed against his legs. And curiously there was no feeling to the kiss. He felt absolutely no desire for Charon though he could admit that Death was a very good kisser.

“ _What once… was mine._ ” The final line was hardly more than a whisper.

After what felt both like a mere moment and an eternity, she pulled away. “Good luck, Mortal. Do not waste this second chance.” She placed one hand on the center of his chest and shoved hard. Eugene stumbled back and the ground vanished under his feet.

He fell into darkness. He wanted to let out a scream but found he couldn’t. He tied to flail about in an effort to find some way to slow his fall and also couldn’t. He arms and legs felt heavy and stiff. His whole body did in fact. The golden tether around his wrist flashed in the darkness forcing him to shut his eyes against the brightness. All of a sudden, the sense of falling just stopped.

Eugene breathed in, suddenly aware that he could again. Vaguely he could feel someone’s arm supporting his head. He struggled to open his eyes, raising eyelids that stubbornly wanted to remain shut. He thought he heard someone draw in a shake-y breath. “Ra-Rapunzel…?” he murmured with a voice that felt harsh with dis-use. There was a soft gasp.

“Eugene?” came the breathless reply in Rapunzel’s voice.

Finally he got his eyes to open. There she was, leaning over him, worry and hope warring in her expression. He could see tears still in her big green eyes and he thought they looked finer than the finest emeralds. In fact she looked more beautiful than he ever thought she could. Like a brown-haired angel. The corners of his lips curled up in a smile. “Did I ever tell you, I’ve got a thing for brunettes?”

A wide smile broke across her face. “EUGENE!!” Rapunzel flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and nearly bowling them both over in her exuberance. Eugene pushed himself up on one arm while holding her with the other. He buried his face against the crook of her neck as she pressed hers against his chest. He could feel her laughing and crying at the same time.

Slowly they pulled apart and Eugene wanted to take a moment to just look at Rapunzel. He wanted to say so many things to her. Like how sorry he was for leaving her on the beach, cutting her hair, for dying on her. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her and that even in death, she was always on his mind.

Rapunzel gave another little laugh, tears still shining in her eyes. He was about to use his free hand to wipe them away when she tightened her grip on his collar and swooped into kiss him. In the back of his head, the Flynn Rider part of him was doing a victory dance and the Eugene part was smacking Flynn on the back of the head. The rest of him ignored both and chose to just enjoy.

This kiss was similar and yet so different from the last one he had been on the receiving end of. Charon’s kiss had been far from innocent but still dispassionate. Rapunzel’s was innocent and passion all at once and if she wasn’t an expert kisser, he thought as he deepened the kiss, he was going to delight in showing her. Yes this was much better than Death’s kiss.

Very faintly, and sounding like it was coming from very far away, he could have sworn he heard a female chuckle.


End file.
